


The Darkness Before the Dawn

by Wishfulthinking1979



Series: Empire Reimagined [9]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst and Drama, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, But it's me so hope is a thing, Consequences, Coping, Drama, Epic Friendship, Friendship, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of dark, Obsession, Yes Vader those are a thing, not a lot of dawn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:08:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29890569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wishfulthinking1979/pseuds/Wishfulthinking1979
Summary: Vader's obsessive quest to capture Luke Skywalker has driven Death Squadron to the very ragged edge. Piett and Veers are just trying to keep their men and each other alive at this point. The Lady does not put up with dumpster fires masquerading as commanders, and Ozzel is grasping opportunities to be the nasty little kriffer everyone knew he was.And in the background, Palpatine pulls strings and plots plots. What will be the outcome?
Relationships: Firmus Piett & Maximilian Veers, Firmus Piett & Venka
Series: Empire Reimagined [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747222
Comments: 69
Kudos: 40





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cmdrtekk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmdrtekk/gifts), [Rowan_Moon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rowan_Moon/gifts).



> So this is much darker than my other offerings. I decided to explore just how bad things got before Vader captures Luke at Bespin in my AU. I have hinted at this in one shots and decided to go more deeply. I enjoyed bringing some minor characters and OCs to the fore in this one. I am focused on the relationships here---what keeps people going and how they cope with such terrible circumstances.  
> So it's not happy exactly. But the title does mean something and if you have read my other offerings, you know where we go from here. :D
> 
> For timeline location this is set between Sith's Men and He Who Sheds His Blood
> 
> And lastly, this is dedicated to two readers who were so encouraging from the beginning of the journey I began into fanfiction about a year ago now. (HOW has it been that long already??) They both appreciate fics set in this period and so this one is for you cmdrtekk and Rowan_Moon. Thank you so much for all the comments, feedback and encouragment. It has meant a great deal. :)

Piett waited in the big hangar bay, ostensibly inspecting the preparations for the return of their forces. 

In reality, he was trying to quell his fears that _this time_ \---this time would be the news that his friend had fallen in battle after the relentless campaigns they had been mounting with increasing frequency.

He clenched his gloved hands behind his back. Technically he was off duty, but had not bothered to go to his quarters, preferring to come here and meet the returning troops. He knew that Baldwin was watching him across the way as he worked with his teams on repairing four damaged walkers, but he could not spare the Chief Engineer a glance. 

Not these days. 

He must be on lockdown. The perfect picture of the Imperial cog. 

Because Death Squadron depended on him doing his job perfectly. Otherwise they would be mere fodder in Lord Vader’s obsessive quest to find Skywalker.

He had watched with dismay these past nine months as his commander had sunk further and further into the cold and ruthless machine he had always been rumored to be. Piett had begun to think that perhaps Lord Vader may value Death Squadron and her men. And initially, that had been true. For two years, he had been proud to serve with the most elite force in the Empire.

But then the hunt for the Death Star killer had become more and more pronounced. Lord Vader was purportedly searching for Rebels, to root them out, but this was far more than their war on the Rebellion.

This was personal.

Piett was sure of it. 

It was not because Vader had valued the Death Star and felt the affront to the Empire. Oh no. In fact he had been most open in his contempt for the weapon, and Piett was in hearty agreement with him. A planet killer may be a deterrent, but given the way the Rebellion had fought even harder when they learned about Jedha….

Or the massive uprisings and defections after Alderaan….

It was a genocide weapon and Piett wanted no part of it. Veers had informed him recently that he had originally been ordered to report to the Death Star shortly before Yavin. A happy incident that caused his shuttle to crash saved his friend’s life in an ironic turn of events. 

So Vader was not seeking Skywalker to avenge the Death Star---of this Piett was certain.

And he ordered, _repeatedly_ , that Skywalker was not to be harmed once they cornered him. He could be stunned, but his Lordship had threatened slow and awful death to any who caused harm to the young pilot.

The thing was, even as Piett was convinced this was a personal search, the methods used to find him became increasingly  _ impersonal _ .

Vader used men and ships ruthlessly. Veers had come close to losing his life in this galaxy wide search twice now, and Vader plowed on.

Piett had nearly been successful in capturing the young (Jedi? He carried a lightsaber, that he knew) man two months previous. He had been certain that Vader would execute him for his failure. Even now, he was not certain why he was still alive. And glimmers of humanity he had thought he’d seen from his dark commander were utterly quenched. 

This had become apparent in many ways, but for Piett himself it was having effect also due to Ozzel’s increased persecution once more. He had seen that Lord Vader was not giving his attention to intership matters the way he had in the past, and was finding ways to make Piett’s life increasingly difficult. 

He would not say unbearable ---nothing could match those awful months when he had first come aboard, and literally wondered if he would survive the experience. No, he had Veers and the Lady now---there was only so much Ozzel could do and the Admiral knew it. But what he could do…..he  _ was _ .

Increased paperwork. Double shifts when he thought he could get away with it. Superfluous inspections. 

No physical assaults----even Ozzel wasn’t stupid enough for that again now that Piett was the Captain of the Lady herself. And Sergeant Ellery was still a faithful shadow when he was on board.

At the moment, however, Piett was hoping that Ellery was right behind a very exhausted (no doubt) General as the first of the troop ships began returning to the bay. 

The landing crews sprang into action, directing the ships to their designated spots in the bay, and Piett was careful not to be underfoot as his well trained crew did their jobs. 

He knew without looking when Vader entered. The chill was unmistakable, as was the tsunami of fear that rolled through the busy hangar bay. 

The kish kosh of Vader’s respirator echoed with gentle malice and Piett straightened, turning to acknowledge his superior officer.

“My Lord.”

“Captain.”

The mask was unreadable. This was an obvious thing to observe, but there had been a time that Piett had thought he was making headway in understanding the little tilts of the helmet, or the set in the shoulders of the Dark Lord. 

These days he did not dare speculate. 

“You are not required to be here,” Lord Vader rumbled.

_ Was that a hint….? _

“No, my Lord,” Piett replied as evenly as possible, “I am off duty at the moment.”

A long pause and Piett tried to keep his breathing even.  _ Was he to leave then….? _

“It is perhaps opportune that you are here. I already know that Skywalker has evaded capture once more. I wish to discuss our next moves. When the General arrives, we will meet in my conference room with the other senior officers. Inform them.”

“Ah...yes, my Lord,” Piett replied, whipping out his datapad to type in an urgent message for the senior staff.

“And Captain.”   
  


“Sir?”

“I will expect you both directly. Do  _ not  _ allow your …. _ concern  _ for the General to impede your work to crush the Rebellion and capture Skywalker. Is that clear?”

_ Kriffing hells.  _

“Yes, my Lord.”

Vader swept out again, the wind from his cape ruffling Piett’s hair.

He was not going to be allowed to give Veers any breathing room. All right. He could adapt. He swiftly typed in a galley order to be delivered here by service droid. Piett was reasonably sure his friend kept a spare uniform jacket in his office, which was across the bay. He moved quickly around the periphery of the action, aware now of the medical crews swarming around. The casualties had been heavy. More wounded than dead thankfully, but it was not easy any way you looked at it.

Piett had already been informed by Ellery that Veers was unhurt (he and the Sergeant had worked out an agreement on such matters) for which he was exceedingly grateful. Now if he could just help his friend through this meeting…..

He keyed in the code for the General’s office and found what he was looking for in seconds, hanging tidily by the weapons’ locker. 

He draped the jacket over his arm and briefly considered grabbing the flask he knew to be in the bottom left drawer, but decided against it in the end. The brief aid it might give the General would not be worth any grief from Ozzel later, should it be discovered.

He exited and secured the office once more, opting to stand outside it as more and more transports landed. The smell of hot engines and plasma was strong, as was ion residue and melted plasteel from damaged armor.

Sparks were already flying from various engineer teams around the bay, as they worked to repair ships and walkers alike. 

Vader expected a very quick turnaround then. Piett wondered if Veers would even be allowed any sleep. He would damn well find a way to give the General some rest Piett vowed internally. A service droid nudged his calf, and he looked down to see the simple food items and the water bottle he had ordered.

He retrieved them and the droid trundled off with a cheerful little *blat.

_At least someone was happy._   
  


And at last the final ship landed (because his friend was a strong proponent of no man left behind and thus made sure to be the first out and the last in) and Piett straightened. 

Troopers first, carrying more wounded. Several covered forms as well. Then Ellery next to the tall General. Even from here, Piett could see the weariness in the set of his friend’s shoulders and the halting gait that spoke of time spent far too long on his feet.

Piett moved to them swiftly.

“....and send another _kriffing_ request for some decent cuirass’s for my men. These are a joke if that many of our troops can be injured  _ while wearing them _ .”   
  


“Sir,” he said, gaining Veers’ attention, and red rimmed grey eyes blinked down at him.

Piett kept his tone professional, aware that Max wouldn’t thank him for showing too much concern in front of all these men.

“Lord Vader has ordered a meeting of the senior officers the moment you returned, General,” Piett told him, trying to convey as much sympathy as he could with his eyes. 

Veers stared at him for a beat, looking so Force damned exhausted, and Piett felt guilty even though it was in no way his fault. 

“Do I have time to clean….?” he began and spotted his jacket over Piett’s arm.

“Sorry,” the Captain told him quietly. “I planned to have you change and eat on the way.”

“So I see,” Veers returned. “Ellery…”

“I’ve got things here, sir.” the big man said, throwing Piett an understanding look. 

Veers took a breath and dragged up stamina from somewhere down by his dirty boots before moving to walk beside his much shorter friend. 

“Do you know what it’s about, Firmus?” he asked once they were well clear of the earshot of anyone else.

Piett angled him a look. “I would imagine it will be our next mission to catch Skywalker, what else?”   
  


Veers closed his eyes briefly, his face far more haggard that Piett had ever seen. 

“All right. Thank you for all this,” the General replied, opening his eyes and taking the water bottle off of Piett. “Bit of a risk for you, coming down here like this.”

Oh Piett knew it.   
  


“Yes, well, I’m off duty at the moment. Though his Lordship did warn me about letting my feelings get in the way of my duty.”   
  


Veers gritted his teeth as they entered the lift.

“You do your duty and more! How has he not seen what Ozzel is piling your desk with….?”   
  


“Because,” Piett said, helping Veers shrug out of the jacket stained with dirt, and blood and sweat, “he is not concerned with that, General, as you well know. And Ozzel is not being stupid enough to come at me with physical means…”

“You being exhausted out of your mind is pretty damn physical!” Veers snapped, doing up the latch on his fresh duty jacket and finger combing his hair.

“I could say the same, Max,” Piett told him mildly, handing him the sandwich.

His friend stared at him for a beat.

“You are remarkably calm with all this, Piett.”

He took a huge bite and the Captain sighed.

“I internalize stress like a champ, Max, you know that. But….it’s Lord Vader and…..I don’t know anymore…..Ozzel in some ways, is the least of my worries. He can’t Force choke me after all.”

Veers coughed, crumbs spraying lightly around the lift.

“ _ Firmus _ . Please don’t even joke about that.”   
  


Piett held his gaze.

“I wouldn’t, General. I am quite serious, given how things are, and have been the last few months particularly…..I used to think surely, he wouldn’t appoint me the Lady’s Captain and then…..dispose of me? It seemed more…. _right_. Kriff, I just don’t know.”

Veers swallowed his bite.

“He choked someone else today, didn’t he?”   
  


_ Dying moans on the central walkway and the sound of clanging as the man’s boot heels struck against the durasteel deck.  _

_ The clammy feeling of horror on the bridge and the desperate attempts from every other officer not to look----to pretend it wasn’t happening….. _ _  
  
_

“Yes,” Piett said softly, staring at the riveting on the deck plating and the Lady swept the lift with her indigo sadness.

“I tried to step in…”

Veers looked at him with horror filled eyes.

“Son of a  _ Hutt _ , Firmus, don’t make yourself a deliberate target!”

“What would you have me do, Veers?” Piett snapped, his grief fueling anger that wasn’t fair. He knew his friend was only concerned for his well being. “Stand by and cower? These are my men too Force damn it, and I have a duty to  _ them _ ! You have done the same!”

Veers took another bite and finished it before answering in a much subdued voice. Piett didn’t like it---Max didn’t do subdued.

“I know. I know that, Captain, and it’s why you’re you. It’s why I’ll take a blaster for you as well…”

“Please don’t,” Piett muttered.

“...but _please_. Piett, you are my only friend on this ship! At all really.”

He leaned against the wall of the turbolift and ran a hand down his face. He needed to shave, but would not have any time at the moment.

“Listen, Max,” Piett said, schooling his tone. Veers was equally, if not more, tired than Piett was, and they were about to have an undoubtedly stressful meeting. “I have the Lady. I do not think she would allow him to do me harm.”

The General raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? You think she would go against the commander of the fleet….?”

A wash of warm green light bathed them, and it brought a small smile to Piett’s face at last.

“Is that not answer enough? Yes, I think she has our backs.”

“Thank you, Lady,” Veers muttered, finishing his sandwich as the lift slowed. He straightened, wincing slightly.

“I thought you weren’t injured?” Piett inquired in a low voice as they made their way down the glossy corridors.

“I’m not. Just sore muscles, Captain.”

And they entered the conference room. 

  
  


*****

Vader sensed all their petty little feelings as he strode into the room. His officers rose at his presence and he waved them impatiently back down. 

He had no time for silly formalities or trifling reports on troop and equipment losses. They were the Empire. One of the uses of the bloated entity he had helped create was the unending supply of men and machines. They might as well be useful, he thought bitterly. 

And once Luke was at his side…..

All things would be possible.

Obviously he could not explain that to the officers here, nor did they deserve to know it. Most of them.

The Lady’s Captain sat across from Vader himself, next to General Veers as was his wont. They would know when the time was right. Then they would understand why he drove them so hard.

<Will they, Dark One? asked the Lady, and her tone was most definitely dripping with doubt.>

And  _ she  _ was becoming more and more vexing.

<They  _ will _ , he told her, thrusting his confidence at her.>

She scoffed.

Ignoring her for a moment (and it was a very difficult task to ignore a pissed off 19 kilometer warship) he addressed his men.

“There is a distinct lack of headway, both in capturing Skywalker and in crushing the Rebels,” he began, rumbling ominously. 

The dark fear that rolled around the room satisfied his damaged soul. If he was feeling despair he would not be alone. A tiny glimmer somewhere in his head told him this was not the way to win support for his future coup, but he crushed it ruthlessly. He was the Emperor’s Fist. He was the most powerful Sith Lord the galaxy had yet seen. That was his whole being now. 

_ And Luke will want to join that? persisted the voice. _

Hells why did the shredded remains of what passed as his conscience have to sound like Obi-Wan every time? It was like pouring magma on his wounds. And he would know…..

“I am most displeased with our lack of progress,” he continued, exerting Force pressure onto the shoulders of his most senior officers.

Ozzel whimpered slightly. (Of course, he thought contemptuously.)

Veers, who was haggard already, squinted slightly, but remained upright. The Iron General. Vader was oddly proud that he did not bend.

Neither did his steel spined Captain, though he pressed his lips together, but he actually dared to look Vader in the face, waiting for more. 

Several of the others twitched. His TIE commander immediately straightened again and he scored a point for the woman. 

“I wish to send out more probe droids. See to it, Admiral,” he said, releasing the pressure. 

“Ah, yes my Lord,” Ozzel managed.

“Captain Piett.”

“My Lord,” the man responded evenly though Vader could feel his turmoil. It had bothered him earlier---Piett had interfered with his….. _ discipline _ of that fool commander. He had used the Force to hold the Captain back and had not liked to do so. He knew Piett’s distaste for being restrained in such a way. And being reminded that he was a man in the suit, not a cold machine, was not something Vader wanted at the moment. 

“You will personally see to it that all of the data the droids send back is  _ thoroughly  _ examined. Any detail, no matter how minute, is to be logged. Anything you believe might remotely indicate rebel activity is to be reported to me.”

Ozzel was feeling smug at the work load he had just piled on the Captain. He shouldn’t. He trusted Piett here more than he would ever trust Ozzel. The Captain would know what he was looking for and would do an excellent job.

“Yes, my Lord.”

<He is tired! snapped the Lady. You ask too much of him, Dark One.>

<He can handle it. He has dealt with worse. I do not have time for you to coddle him, Lady.>

<You will push him too far, she told him. You will push  _ me  _ too far, Dark One.>

_ And that…..was that a threat? _ It had not actually occurred to him what might happen should he and the Lady truly face each other in open conflict.

Opting to ignore this troubling thought for the moment, Vader turned to Veers. 

“We have received word of a rebel uprising in the Brack Sector. You will deploy in 24 hours.”

He felt Veers’ internal wince but the man lived up to his nickname externally. 

“Yes, my Lord.”

Piett shot him a swift glance. Vader appreciated that the two had improved the efficiency between the army and the navy. However, their friendship was getting in the way of what he wished to accomplish. Their focus needed to be on their commander’s ultimate goals.

_ That’s not the real reason though, _ the voice in his head nagged.  _ The real reason you don’t like it, is the reminder it gives you of what brotherhood looks like.  _

Internally he snarled viciously at the voice. Anakin was dead. He no longer needed to worry about such horizontal ties. And his officers would do well to remember that too. 

“You will transfer to Devastator. She and Tyrant will escort you and provide support. You will rendezvous with the rest of the fleet near Seltos. We will be mustering there to crush a significant Rebel splinter group.”

He paused, the Dark Side purring around him due to the sheer strain and fear in the room.

“Dismissed,” he intoned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veers departs on another campaign. Vader speaks to his Master. Piett tries to hold everything together.

Veers felt the nudge but couldn’t be bothered to respond. He was warm and he was asleep, dammit, nothing would change that.

“Sir.”

Ellery’s voice reminded him that his  _ duty _ could change that and he opened gritty eyes to realize that he was leaning against the big man’s shoulder. 

_ Nine hells…. _

He sat up swiftly, tugging his tunic, and straightening his cuirass. And apparently he needed to stop associating with Piett so much as he was picking up some of the Captain’s mannerisms. 

“Apologies, Sergeant. What’s the status?”   
  


Ellery was looking at him with too much understanding and Veers narrowed his eyes.

“We’re ten minutes out, General. I thought you might want to get to your walker now, sir.”   
  


“Very true, Ellery, thank you.” They had been seated in a passenger area on the Gozanti taking their walker and walker 12 toward Cularin. 

He rose in a haze, body and mind both moving more slowly than they ought.

He had appreciated being able to crash on the Captain’s sofa--his quarters being closer to Vader’s conference room--for a few hours, but Piett’s small efforts, however appreciated were not enough to overcome the huge sleep debt that Veers was working with.

Of course, Piett was faring no better. Between Ozzel’s persecution and Vader’s increasing demands, Veers wondered how in the galaxies his friend’s slim shoulders were coping with the weight. 

The Captain had not had time to walk with him to the hangar bay. They had said their quiet farewells without fuss. The General suspected that they had both written letters to be sent to one another should one of them die. He had----this he knew, and Piett would likely do the same. So their partings these days were usually limited to ‘good hunting’ and ‘safe stars’ as was their wont.

Veers privately thought he had the better job. He was facing a known enemy in the Rebellion. He went in, he led his campaign (hopefully to victory) and they departed.

Each time, he wondered if he would see Piett, or if this was finally the time that Vader had allowed his anger to get the better of him. That this would be the time he would hear that Piett’s body was in the morgue, because his friend tried to save a crewman. Or just happened to be in the area when their Sith commander needed to expel his rage on yet another person.

Yes, he knew the Lady in some mysterious fashion looked out for her Captain. But what could she do precisely to a Sith Lord? Veers had witnessed her impressive display when she obliterated the Hand. * But they had been by her plasma core at that point. What could she do if Vader were to unleash his frustration upon Piett somewhere else?

“Sir?” Ellery again, holding Veers’ helmet as he wrestled with his thoughts. He had to pull it together. He would do no one any good if he was not focused on the mission at hand.

“Right.” He took the helmet and put it on. “Let us remind the Rebels who holds authority in this sector.”

  
  


****

Vader felt the Emperor’s displeasure wash over him as he knelt before the glowing image.

“It is expected that my most  _ trusted  _ friend will be by my side, Lord Vader,” Palpatine said softly, but in a voice dripping with poison. “It is Ascension day after all. The day I humbly took the throne for the good of the galaxy. And you----you were most instrumental in placing me there.”   
  


And internally Vader bled. His Master knew all the ways in which to torture him and reminding him that he had been the key to placing Sidious on his tyrant’s throne was one of his favorites.

“I am grieved indeed, my Master, that I cannot be with you,” he replied, straining his shields to repress his thoughts.

_ Soon you will be dead. And my son will be at my side. I can endure all things if that is the end of my plans. _

“This…...splinter group of Rebels is such a threat you believe?” Palpatine pushed in his gravelly tones.

“It is, my Master. It is the largest we know of, and the most vicious. The ‘Alliance’ disdain their methods, though they are hypocrite enough to use them as needed. At last I believe we have found their location.”

“And you have not yet cornered young Skywalker,” Sidious purred, his golden eyes glowing brightly even across a far distant connection. 

_ Which you well know you ancient serpent. _

“I have not.”

“You are certain your reluctance to come to Imperial Center is not due to your desire to pursue him?”

He did wish to pursue Luke. He would. But he also wished to destroy this group it was true. He projected all his hatred for these Rebels into his answer. 

“It is not. I am working on plans to capture him. But this mission is more pressing, my Master. I do not wish to lose our opportunity for surprise.”

“No. Surprise is difficult is it not, my old friend? Especially as you have such a distinctive breathing sound now?” He cackled at his own wit and deep within Vader, Anakin screamed his despair.

“I merely jest, of course, Lord Vader.”

“Of course, Master.”

“It was I who saved you after all….”

_ To what end? Eternal misery? How Vader wished it had all ended that day. That Obi-Wan had had the courage to kill him with his own hand. _

“Thank you, my Master.”

“Well,” Palpatine considered. “I am still most displeased with you, Lord Vader. I expected…..more from you. But your devotion to peace in our galaxy is indeed admirable. I will, of course, expect a report from you in person, when you finish.”

“Of course.” 

Palpatine disappeared. Vader rose and the room trembled around him. 

<You are angry with the Evil, Dark One. You do not need to …..>

He drowned the Lady’s voice out as the Force raged around him in a violent storm, and Vader was the anything but peaceful eye.

He gave himself to his despair.

  
  


******

Piett hurried toward the engine bays while trying very hard not to look like he was hurrying. He had purpose---he did not need to look panicked. 

The crew had had enough of that the day before.

Lord Vader had destroyed his own quarters in a spectacular manner after a conversation with the Emperor, to the extent that he had caused damage to the Lady’s structural integrity. 

All sorts of alarms had gone off on the bridge and almost comically as one, they had looked to him when the source was revealed.

Ozzel had confirmed it by ordering him to check on his Lordship. Piett could see his own demise in the man’s pig like eyes.

_ “Do you need assistance, sir?” Lieutenant Venka had asked and Piett appreciated his XO’s boldness. _

_ “Thank you, Venka, with me then.” _

_ He hoped madly that this was not the cause of Venka’s death as well as his own.  _

_ They had reached the corridor which was utterly deserted as no crewmember in their right mind was going anywhere near the area when Lord Vader was on rampage. _

_ The Lady herself was trembling from the impact and Piett and Venka both staggered. There was a huge hole in the bulkhead between the corridor and Vader's quarters, as though a giant fist had ripped it like a piece of flimsi. This provided them the terrifying view of Lord Vader, standing in the center of his quarters, arms raised and cape whirling madly about him as the debris from all of the objects in his rooms furthered the destruction around them.  _

_ Piett felt the datapad firmly grasped in his hand buzz, and he looked down to see that the Lady was showing him the location of the worst stress point.  _

_ Kriffing hells. If it went, the resulting loss of pressure could rupture 8 decks. _

_ “MY LORD!!” he had tried over the noise. Nothing. And now he could hear….was that the sound durasteel made when it was slowly being pulled apart? He would hear it in nightmares. _

_ “He can’t hear us!” Venka had called. _

_ Piett sighed internally. It was true. His Lordship was in a Force trance now. Only one thing he could think of to try and bring him out. _

_ “Get back!” he ordered Venka. _

_ “Sir….” _

_ “MOVE Lieutenant. I don’t want you to get hurt if this doesn’t work the way I hope.” _

_ Venka obeyed as Piett drew his blaster and took aim at his commander.  _

_ “Son of a Hutt….!” Venka managed and Piett fired. _

_ For a half second he worried that he might have committed the worst sort of treason, but then his blaster was yanked from his hand, the red bolt deflected back and he ducked, feeling the heat as it zipped by his head. _

_ Then he was flung back against the opposite wall and pinned there, the pressure on his slight form increasing painfully.  _

_ But he was still breathing…… _

_ “What was the meaning of that action, Captain?” Lord Vader’s voice---clipped and ominous sounded-- and the tall black form stepped out of his ruined quarters, the thunderous tumble of falling debris sounding behind him. _

_ “My Lord…” Piett tried, and oh he was sure his back would be a colorful mess of bruises from this. “The ship’s integrity was being threatened. I do abjectly apologize---it was the only thing I could think of to bring you…..back to us.” _ _  
  
_

_ Venka was wide eyed near them, clearly waiting for Vader to snap Piett’s neck if he was merciful and throttle him if he was not. _

_ He rather wondered why either option hadn’t occurred himself. _

_ “And if you had failed? And hit me?” _ _  
  
_

_ The pressure increased again and Piett grunted in pain. _

_ “I had faith that you would sense it, my Lord,” he answered truthfully.  _

_ “Faith….” the Sith Lord trailed off. The lights in the corridor were flashing furiously quite suddenly and Venka looked around puzzled.  _

_ “My Lord,” the Lieutenant began. _

_ “That is not me,” Lord Vader said, lowering his outstretched hand. Piett slid to the floor. “That is the Lady.” _

_ “A….malfunction?” Venka clarified. _

_ And there was a strange moment where Piett could swear that Vader was looking him right in the eye. _

_ “....of a sort,” his commander said at last. “See to the repairs, Captain. All the repairs.” _

_ And he strode off toward his training rooms, while Venka helped him up. _

_ “Sir, do you need sickbay or….?” _

_ Piett hurt, but nothing was broken. “No, Venka, thank you.” _

_ “Bloody hells, sir, I thought you were kriffed for sure.” _

_ “So did I, Lieutenant,” Piett breathed, straightening his tunic and opening various screens on his pad to communicate with the teams needed for repairs. “So did I.” _

Now he was going to check in with Baldwin as the Chief needed to speak with him and show him some of the issues that they were having after pushing the Lady so hard these last months in their pursuit of the Rebels (Skywalker).

He had barely had time to stop in the officer’s mess closest to him and snatch a quick bite of dinner. Something hot, that’s all he recalled, because he had wolfed it down. He needed fuel--he didn’t have time to sit and savor or relax. The first of the new data streams from the probe droids was incoming, and his teams were working around the clock to pore over them for any possible leads on the Rebels (Skywalker). 

This meant, of course, that Piett himself was poring over the things that they flagged personally. He was genuinely wondering how in the galaxies he would get any sleep at this rate. But Lord Vader had said it needed to be him personally. And while his Lordship had been spending ships and men like water at this point, he was not the sort to assign busy work, unlike Ozzel.

(And don’t get Piett started on how much the Admiral had laid on his plate, his happy little smirk in place.)

So he could only assume that this was somehow deeply personal for Vader. He had suspected it for some time, but this increasing obsession with capturing Skywalker over catching the Rebels was confirming it every day. 

He entered the lift and spent the ten minutes it took to reach the vast engine bays, reading the minutiae reports that Ozzel had handed off to him. Checking those as done, and sending a few departmental notes regarding them, Piett exited.

His stomach churned a little as he moved down the last corridor to the second catwalk level.

_ He couldn’t get sick now…. _

“Captain.”

Baldwin was an oasis of calm in 19 kilometers of stress, and Piett was grateful. 

“Chief. I wish I had time for more pleasantries, but I am afraid I need to get right to the point today.”

“I understand, sir. Over here.”

They moved to a section where massive conduits led from the plasma core out to the rest of the ship. 

“This, Captain. I have tried to bring it to the attention of the Admiral, sir, as I’m very concerned, but he has not responded to my requests.”

_ Force damn his self important little soul _ , Piett thought viciously, his stomach now really bothering him, and he felt himself sweating lightly.

He could see the vast amounts of carbon scoring, black against the normally gleaming silver conduits.

“How exactly is this happening, Baldwin?” he asked, trying to unobtrusively lean against the railing.

The Chief gave him a quick look, but didn’t ask questions. With any luck, Piett could get through this and stagger back to his quarters to be miserable alone. 

“Sir, the last five months, we have pushed the Lady to her limits as we hop around the galaxy. Captain, I appreciate the zeal for hunting out the Rebellion, but sir, even the Lady needs time for maintenance and we haven’t given her a proper overhaul in a year and a half. We need to be at Kuat, sir.”

And Lord Vader would  _ love  _ to hear that. No doubt Piett would be sent to tell him too. The pain took another sharp ratchet up and he couldn’t stop himself from bending slightly.

“Captain!” Baldwin was at his elbow.

“It’s fine, Chief. Likely coming down with…. _oh_ …”

Fire was ripping through him now and he dropped to his knees on the metal catwalk with a slight clang. 

“Sir, I’m getting a med team.”   
  


“Please, no, Baldwin,” Piett gasped, hating the thought of being stuck in sickbay with so much work to do. Vader was not in an…. _understanding_ mood. His Captain had just shot at him after all.

“I just… I….”

The Chief anticipated him, seizing a big tool kit and dumping its contents before thrusting it under his face.

Piett lost whatever he had managed to put in his stomach. But the expected relief he had been anticipating didn’t come. The pain was as though he’d been  _ shot _ .

He curled into a fetal position on the grating, feeling the cold metal pressing his cheek and vaguely was aware of Baldwin comming a med team above him.

“Can’t be sick, Chief,” he muttered, “kriffing hells it hurts!”

He heard Baldwin moving and then something softer was placed under his head. The Chief’s duty jacket.

“Sorry,” Piett managed and another red wave of agony tore through his stomach.

“Maybe an ulcer sir,” Baldwin said calmly and a warm hand landed on his shoulder while another was removing his cap. The Chief touched the back of his hand to Piett’s clammy forehead. 

“Fever, Captain. I’m sorry, but I’m not rescinding the med team. You need to be seen, sir.”

  
  
He didn’t understand. “I don’t…..have time, Baldwin!” he insisted, grasping at the man’s sleeve. “Henley will keep me, things will get missed and people will die, Chief!!!”

He convulsed again and what in the  _ galaxies  _ was causing this? He would rather be shot at this rate.

A comforting hand on his head. “It’s not all on you, Captain,” Baldwin told him. “Don’t worry about that right now, sir. I’ve got you.”

  
  
  


****

Piett moaned under his touch and Baldwin could see that clarity was becoming difficult for the younger man. 

He had witnessed Piett’s anguish when Veers had been near death with an illness only months before. Baldwin wished he was surprised that the Captain was now battling something as well. The way that their commander had been pushing all of them was fierce, but their senior officers in particular…..

“Baldwin,” his Captain tried again. “I have too much to do. Lord Vader…”

Yes, Vader was the issue for most of them. Vader was also an issue for much of the galaxy, but the Chief wouldn’t dwell on that too much. 

“I know, sir. I can’t affect that at the moment, Captain. I  _ can  _ help you. One thing at a time, sir.”

He ran a hand over Piett’s short brown hair, feeling the sweat gathering and tried to stay calm. He was very much hoping Henley had answers for whatever was wrong with the Captain. Given how things had been, Executor needed him. For whatever reason, no matter how hard Lord Vader pushed Piett, he seemed to draw the line at killing him. 

Baldwin was very aware of the previous day’s events having been up to see the damage himself. And the scuttlebutt had already swept the length of the Lady.

The Captain had _ fired a blaster at Lord Vader. _ To protect the ship and crew. Piett likely had no idea just how much respect was directed at his small form, but Baldwin heard all the discussions.

Piett would stand between his crew and Lord Vader if it came to it. And Baldwin could see it was slowly killing him.

“Chief,” Piett ground out. “Thank you.”

The med team showed up at last and Baldwin stepped back to let them examine the Captain.

One of them turned to him as her colleagues lifted Piett to a grav sled.

“What happened exactly?”

“I could see he didn’t feel well. He was sweating lightly. It progressed quickly from there to vomiting and acute pain. As you see.”

The woman nodded. 

“You may want to come with us, Chief. Doctor Henley is rather concerned.”   
  


Baldwin raised his eyebrows.

“He  _ said  _ that?”

The woman gave him a small conspiratorial grin. “Not in so many words. It was more the ‘how many kriffing competent captains does Lord Vader think we  _ have  _ to run through? He’s killing the man, the Sith  _ bastard _ .’ and more to that effect. He did mention that he was glad you were with him Chief, by which I take it that he may want to hear from your lips what happened.”

Baldwin nodded. He had questions and this would be a good opportunity to speak with the Doctor without arousing any suspicions.

He followed the small group out, ignoring the curious looks they received as they came out into the corridors. Piett was mercifully not in the same amount of agony having been given heavy painkillers, but he was still restless on the gravsled and Baldwin hurried to move ahead of two medics to walk at the man’s side.

“Please…..” the Captain moaned, and Baldwin reached to take his hand, gripping it firmly to let Piett know he wasn’t alone. It may have helped. He liked to think so when the pressure was returned as they entered the lift and Piett seemed a little calmer.

The moment they entered Henley’s sickbay the man was on them with a scanner.

“Yes, all right,” he said abruptly, “get him to a bed.”

The medics swiftly obeyed and Henley barked more orders. Baldwin had a rare moment to appreciate the Doctor in his element--this was his command and he was supremely competent in it.

“Captain,” he said, leaning over Piett and unlatching his duty jacket. “Have you been suffering with this pain long?”   
  


“No,” Piett panted, “came on quickly.”

Henley did a swift blood draw and the scanner beeped at him.

He frowned slightly.

“What did you eat last, Captain?”   
  


“Just before….going to Engineering,” he answered, and Henley and a medic between them had his jacket off.

“I have a sample sir,” the woman said. “I didn’t find any poisons.”

Henley adjusted something on his scanner and took the sample.

He growled at the results. 

“No poisons in that very deadly sense of the word, no. Time for a sedative, I think.” And Henley followed word with action, allowing Piett to slip into blessed relief.

He came to Baldwin’s side and inclined his head for them to move apart from the medics as they finished making Piett comfortable.

“What is it?” the Chief asked, trying not to feel deeply uneasy about Henley’s manner. “I thought you said he was not poisoned…”

“He wasn’t….conventionally,” Henley answered quietly.

_ And that was not in any way reassuring.  _

“What happened then? Will he be all right?”

“He will be fine now,” Henley replied quickly. “It was food poisoning---a very vicious one at that.”

“Should we pass the word in the galleys, Doctor? Trace it….”

“It was very specific, Chief. This sort of ‘poison’ if you will, is not something we would find occurring naturally in any of the foodstuffs on board the Lady. It had to have been added.”

A chill swept Baldwin and he glanced back at Piett’s quiet form, peaceful now and tucked in securely.

“Doctor, you mean….”

“You know exactly what I mean, Mr. Baldwin,” Henley pinned him with that penetrating gaze. “This was done to him deliberately.”

“ _ Why? _ ” asked Baldwin. As though Piett’s situation wasn’t hard enough.

“I don’t know,” Henley admitted, “though I have some ideas. After all, if the Captain is unable to fulfill his duties, there are consequences. Or if he had been taken ill on his own….and fallen? In Engineering?

“ _ Force _ , Doctor. That’s tantamount to murder.”

“Agreed, Chief. I can’t prove anything of course.”   
  


The two men stared at each other for a beat.

“Damn, but I wish the General was on board,” Baldwin said, frowning furiously. “Who can we report this to?”

“I would have said Lord Vader at one time,” sighed Henley. “But he has no care for that now. If the Captain had actually been poisoned perhaps, but…”

“What of the first officer….what’s his name?”

“Lieutenant Venka? The XO?” Henley stroked his chin. “That is not a terrible idea, Chief. He seems to be a good man. Yes. I’ll let him know. When the Captain wakes I shall inform him as well. He should make sure all his meals are prepared by someone trusted. Imagine if this had happened on the bridge!”

Baldwin blanched slightly. Surrounded by numerous officers and an Admiral who hated him? Who had possibly been behind this? Awful indeed to contemplate. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *All the Sith’s Men


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veers returns to the Lady and Venka has the job of filling him in.....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I....really enjoyed writing this chapter. ;D

Venka waited in the bay as the big ships made their smooth landings. Veers and the Herd were returning triumphant, having put down the Rebel uprising. 

Executor had only been at Seltos for one day before word had reached them that their people were returning. 

Four day campaign.

Impressive indeed. Though it was likely the uprising had not been a large one. Regardless, Venka was deeply pleased that they were back. 

He was less pleased with the news he had to deliver to Veers, but the General should be apprised of the situation immediately and quietly, rather than find out from anyone else.

The Gozanti carrying his walker touched down and the XO moved through the teeming bay toward the ship. He waited respectfully as the dead and wounded were unloaded and finally Veers appeared, dirty and unshaven, with Ellery faithful by his side.

“General Veers.” he saluted as Veers turned to glare at him.

“You’re…”

“Lieutenant Venka, sir. The Captain’s XO.”

“That’s right.”   
  


“Sir I need to….”

“Can this possibly wait until I have actually had a chance to take a breath in the Lady’s hangar bay, Lieutenant?”

All right, yes, the General was hugely intimidating, staring at him with red rimmed grey eyes, currently burning with exhausted fury.

Venka straightened. 

“No, sir, I’m sorry. I need to speak with you privately right away.”

And Veers’ countenance changed. The General was quick, and had clearly put together this was about Piett.

“My office,” he said curtly, and strode in that direction clearly expecting Venka to follow.

He did so, reminding himself that he was an officer, damn it, and his heart did not need to be thundering like this at the thought of facing the rage of ‘Iron Max’ Veers.

The door had barely hissed shut behind them, and the lights flicked on before the General rounded on him.

“Is he alive?” he clipped, removing his helmet to set it on his desk and running a grimy hand through his hair.

“Yes, sir,” Venka said immediately, but the set of the other man’s shoulders remained unchanged. 

_ Awful that his first question was that one but Venka understood.  _

“What the kriff happened? I did not think Executor saw any action.”   
  


“We did not, General.”

Venka took a breath. 

“Sir, Doctor Henley sent me to intercept you to fill you in.”

Veers was radiating tension now---the exhausted man who had stepped off his ship was gone and a coiled tiger waited.

“Then fill. Me. In,” Veers ordered through clenched teeth.

Venka was not picturing a wolf protecting its young at all, he wasn’t, but he half expected the General to growl.

_ Kriff he was terrifying. _

“Sir, the Captain fell ill yesterday. He is going to recover and is in sickbay currently…”

“What does he have?” Veers asked, some of the tension bleeding out from his shoulders, and Venka was able to stop picturing vicious predators.

“He doesn’t have anything in that sense, General. He suffered food poisoning.”   
  


Veers raised an eyebrow. “And you came down here to head me off with great secrecy to tell me  _ that _ ?”

Vicious predator images were back in Venka’s brain for this next part.

“No, ah, no sir. The Doctor….he said it was done deliberately, General.”

He forced himself not to back up a step.

The General hadn’t even moved, but something about his whole demeanor screamed danger, and it was assaulting Venka in the primal fear centers of his brain.

“I see,” the General said, and Venka half expected the room to freeze over.

Abruptly Veers stood straight, and removed his armor. He reholsterd his blaster however before shooting a piercing look at Venka.

“Henley’s sickbay you said?”

“Yes, General, but….”

“All right then.”   
  


And he was out the door before Venka could blink.

He hustled after him as a big sergeant intercepted the General, matching his stride. Veers appeared to give him orders but carried on. Venka had to jog to catch up and did so in time to slip into the lift beside him.

“General, we can’t let this get out. We don’t need that kind of havoc on the Lady after all the other things we’ve been dealing with----looking for the pilot, the Rebel campaigns….”

“I am not a green ensign, thank you Lieutenant,” Veers responded coldly.

“Sir if you come storming in, it will look suspicious….”

“Who said I will storm?” Veers lifted an eyebrow. “I will enter calmly to visit my friend. I assume precautions have been taken regarding his food?”

At least Venka could reassure him here.”Yes, General. I spoke with one of the galley chiefs. They will be the only ones to prepare the Captain’s food from here on. And the Doctor has recommended he have it scanned first even so.”

“He’s awake then?” Veers asked keenly.

“Well. He has been in intervals. Insisted he be released yesterday and Henley actually laughed in his face, sir.”

Veers’ lip twitched at this, but he gave no other indicators.

“Mmm. Well, thank you, Venka.”

“Yes, sir.”

They were silent as they walked down the cold corridor toward sickbay and the warm, white contrast was notable as they stepped inside. 

Piett was the only one in this sickbay at the moment and the lights were dimmed to allow the Captain to sleep.

Veers paused briefly, then moved quietly to his friend’s side.    
  


Venka felt rather like an intruder in this moment, but couldn’t move his fascinated eyes as the killing machine rested a hand on the arm of the Captain and stood there for some minutes, watching Piett.

Henley came out, and caught Venka’s eye.

He had done his duty. It was time for the Doctor to take over.

  
  


******

His friend looked so kriffing  _ small  _ when he wasn’t conscious. Veers knew objectively that Piett was small always, but there was something that made him more so in sleep. Perhaps it was the vulnerability that the Captain never allowed himself to show when awake.

Henley came to his side and checked readings before turning to look at him.

“Well. You need to sleep yourself, General. You look awful.”

“Always good to see you too, Doctor. Lieutenant Venka says you are the man to talk to about this.”   
  


A sigh from the Doctor. “Yes.”

He must have read more in the General’s face than Veers would have liked because his angular face softened ever so slightly.

“He will be perfectly fine, Veers. Some of this is the massive sleep debt he has. Let’s come into my office to talk.”

Veers moved his hand from Piett’s arm and the warmth that proved his friend was alive, to follow Henley.

Once the door shut, the Doctor motioned to a chair and then snagged a water bottle to shove across the desk to the General.

“Drink that. You came straight from the hangar bay didn’t you?”

Veers took it gratefully. “Yes. Talk to me Henley. What the kriff is going on?”

The Doctor rubbed at the back of his neck.

“That could take a while to discuss, General. But, and you are only getting my theories here….”

“Yes,” said Veers impatiently. “Your theories are usually right, Doctor, however much your method of delivery leaves to be desired.”

Henley snorted. “Very well. I think that it is likely Ozzel or his flunkies. They don’t have the courage to outright attempt murder. Lord Vader may not have the same attention to his command staff that he used to, but I think we can reasonably assume he would note  _ that _ . However, if Piett can’t perform his duties---and it’s a ridiculous amount by the way----he could incur his Lordship’s…..ire.”

“You think that they are hoping Vader himself will dispose of the Captain.”

“Yes.”

Veers pondered this. A year ago he would have said that was unthinkable. That Vader had personally chosen Piett. That there was clearly something about the ship that connected with the Captain. That Vader had seemed to care…..He had been so  _ careful  _ when they were retrieving Piett from under the pile of debris the Hand had dropped on him. Veers and Vader had worked together there….

Now, however, the General wasn’t sure. Vader was executing men for seemingly small failures. 

“I wondered if it would happen a few days ago,” Henley said interrupting his thoughts.

“Why?”

“Lord Vader….well he had one of his Sith temper tantrums.”   
  


_ Force the man was bold. _

“Doctor,” Veers said, rolling his eyes. “Could we  _ not  _ refer to it that way for kriff’s sake?”

“True though,” Henley shrugged. He leaned back in his chair. “He spoke with the Emperor. These days that usually results in death and destruction.”

This was true.

“However, this one was particularly bad. Naturally, Ozzel sent Piett to try and deal with it. Venka went with him. The ship’s integrity was at stake.”

_ Son of a Hutt. _

“So he sent the Captain on a suicide mission, that fat bastard!!”

Henley nodded. “Venka said that Piett tried to get his attention but it was like a tempest inside the ship.”

Veers could imagine.

“So the Captain shot him.”

A pause.

Veers blinked.

_ Force damn, Piett. _

“He shot…...Lord Vader?”

He had to hear it to be sure.

Henley gave him a smile with no humor. “You may recall the kind of spine our Captain is rumored to have. It didn’t hit him obviously. He supposed that the threat would draw his Lordship out of the Force storm. He was correct.”

“How is he still  _ alive _ ?” Veers marveled.

“This is what gives me a glimmer of hope, General,” Henley replied, folding his arms across his chest. “He apparently threw the Captain across the corridor, but he never tried to throttle him. Venka was there. Piett explained the situation and then Vader released him.”

“Just like that.”

“Just like that,” the Doctor agreed.

Veers very much wanted his friend to wake up. Karking  _ hells _ they had some things to discuss. But he had to return to something else….

“So you believe Ozzel…”

“Just my theory, General, but yes. I think he is looking for ways to cause Piett to stumble. Possibly fatally. Maybe just get him demoted or transferred. But his hatred has visibly increased for the Captain and with Lord Vader focused elsewhere, he doesn’t have much to stand in his way.”

_ There was the Lady _ , Veers thought. _ And there was himself. _

“Your proof, Doctor?”

Henley swiped his data pad and slid it over to the General. 

“The Chief and the head gallery steward did a full investigation, very discreetly, so as not to attract the attention of the Admiral. You can see all the details there, but it boils down to this—- only the Admiral or the Captain have the code to override safety scans on the ship’s mess. The code was entered the moment Piett put in his order at officers’ mess hall 239.”

Veers considered this. “Someone was working with Ozzel to do that.”

Henley sighed. “Fully droid service in that hall. Of course it’s entirely likely an Ozzel flunky overrode droid sensor programs there but that’s a screw in the Star Destroyer. Ultimately, the Admiral is responsible.”

Veers picked up the datapad on Henley’s desk without a by your leave and ignored the Doctor’s huff.

“No no, by all means, help yourself.”

He typed in his request, and the Lady showed him the Admiral’s current location.  _ Perfect _ . Heading for the bridge. 

He typed in an intercept route from sickbay, then rose as the Lady flashed it up for him.

“Doctor. Please comm me with Piett wakes up. I have something to do, and then get a shower before reporting to Lord Vader.”

“Veers…..”

Henley rose as well and came around the desk.

“Whatever you’re planning…”   
  


“You don’t know about, Doctor.” Veers replied, lifting an eyebrow and staring at him hard. 

Henley stared back unphased. “Actually. I very much want to hear about it. In glowing detail.”

Veers grinned at him wolfishly. “I’ll buy you a drink then later.”

Henley chuckled. “I look forward to it.”

  
  


*****

Veers knew he looked absolutely horrifying---grimy, unshaven and his blaster very clearly at his hip.

_ And the hot fury of every god the galaxy could cook up in his heart.  _

Crew members scurried out of his way as he moved with all the purpose of a campaign objective toward his target. There. 

Strutting---did the man ever walk normally?--- to the lift. Veers lengthened his stride, and slapped a hand in between the door and the jamb before it could close. 

It hissed back open obligingly and he stepped in next to Ozzel. A young ensign was also in the lift, and looked at him with open fear.

“Get out,” he ordered, and the boy obeyed gratefully.

The doors hissed shut as Ozzel turned to him with a frown.

“That was my aid….”

Veers slapped the emergency stop button and looked up.

“Lady. Cut all security feeds in this lift.”

A green light washed them and he knew he’d been answered.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re  _ doing _ Gen….!”

Veers surged into Ozzel’s space, deeply glad of the two inches in height he had over the man, and enjoyed his recoil. 

“We need to have a little talk, Admiral,” he snarled, the force of his anger filling the small space. “Lord Vader may not be doing much about your persecution of the Captain, but I  _ can _ .”   
  


“How  _ dare _ you, General? Are you threatening a superior officer?”

“Threatening?” Veers smiled slowly, showing his teeth. “Abso  _ kriffing _ lutely. Superior? Hardly. I know you were behind what happened to Piett two days ago.”

Ozzel’s jowls were trembling slightly in a combination of fear and rage.

“How dare you, sir! There is utterly no proof of foul play….”

Veers punched the bulkhead next to Ozzel’s cap and the man flinched, his normally puce expression going pasty.

“I don’t  _ care _ . Do you understand me, you whomp rat bastard? The gloves are off. You think you’re the only one who can  _ arrange  _ things to look like accidents?”

“I…..” Ozzel trailed off then gathered himself in a pathetic attempt to bluster. “I shall report this to Lord Vader, Veers. I will…..”

The General laughed dangerously, and gripped Ozzel’s jaw in his hand, forcing the man to look at him.

“You do that. And I will explain why I acted the way that I did as well. You better believe I can produce proof. And I hear that we had another Sith display of anger. How do you think he’ll react to this sort of behavior among his senior officers? I’m prepared for the consequences, damn your quivering little soul. You will leave the best man I know alone, so  _ help _ you, or I will see to it that the mouse droids have to clean up your corpse with vacuum hoses. Shall we go see Lord Vader,  _ Admiral _ ? I’m prepared to die for my friend. Are you?” He squeezed tighter, enjoying the fear in the other man's eyes.

Ozzle shook his head ever so slightly, sweat now beading at his temples.    
  


“Glad we’re clear then,” Veers purred, releasing his jaw, the white marks of his fingers stark against the flaccid skin. “You so much as look at the Captain wrong…..You will answer to me. And you won’t know when retribution may come.”

He slapped the button again and the lift rose, stopping at the floor Veers indicated.

The doors hissed open as Ozzel leaned weakly against the wall.

“I’ll see you later, Admiral,” Veers said with promise and strode to his quarters.

  
  


****

Piett was latching up his jacket when Veers entered sickbay. His friend surveyed him a moment before striding over to give him one of his rare embraces.

“Good to see you intact,” Piett told him, stepping back and scanning his friend.

Clearly the General had donned a fresh uniform and had found time to clean up a bit. Henley had informed him upon Piett’s waking that the Herd had returned successfully. He had also informed him that he had filled Veers in on what had occurred on board the Lady.

Piettt was already inwardly bracing himself for the inevitable lecture from Veers, but right now he just wanted to get back to his quarters, possibly squeeze in some reports and then sleep some more.

He already knew from the look on the General’s face that this was not going to happen and he reached to snag his cap from the small bedside table.

“And you,” Veers replied seriously as Henley came out of his office, holding a small jar.

“Bacta rub,” he said, handing it to Piett. “For your back, Captain. You really ought to have seen me for those bruises right away. I’ve treated them several times, but you need to apply this until it’s gone, is that clear?”

Piett frowned slightly at the tone of command, but arguing would only prolong his presence here.

“Yes, Doctor, thank you.”

Henley gave Veers a quick glance.

“I’ll take you up on that drink tomorrow, General.”

Veers returned the look with one Piett couldn’t interpret. 

“I’ll message you then. Shall we Captain?”

And they were walking out of sickbay together.

“I’m sorry, am I living in an alternate reality where you and Henley get drinks now?” Piett asked curiously.

Veers snorted. “Let’s just say, Piett, that on occasion, buying an ally a drink is a good idea.”

“Allies in what?” the Captain asked seriously as they stepped into a lift.

Veers waited until the doors closed and they were moving before he answered. 

“In making sure that Ozzel doesn’t off you.”

Piett sighed. “He wouldn’t actually go that far.”   
  


“No?” Veers said, grey eyes snapping fire. “What if you had passed out on the catwalk without Baldwin, Piett? Fallen over the rail? Or less serious but damaging, what if this had happened on the bridge?”

Piett had had all these thoughts himself and had listened to Henley’s theories.

“He couldn’t have known I would be going to engineering in time to have my food tampered with. That part was coincidental.”   
  


“Yes, but that’s my point,” Veers stressed, folding his arms and leaning back against the bulkhead tiredly. “This is a Super Star Destroyer. The nature of your job takes you anywhere upon her. There are a million and one ways that having you taken ill suddenly could be fatal, even if the illness itself isn’t.”

Fair point.

Piett rubbed at his temple. “What do you suggest I do, Max? I’m…..kriff, I’m so tired.” And that sounded pathetic, even to his own ears. “Sorry, I know you’re exhausted too….”   
  


Veers looked at him sympathetically. “In a different way sure. I don’t have to contend with the mental stress of my superior officer hating me so badly, he’d resort to these methods. However, that should be taken care of for the time being.”

Piett felt a twitch of unease in his chest.

“What do you mean, General?”

“I mean,” Veers responded calmly, “That Ozzel should back off, at least for a while.”

“ _ Max _ . What did you do?”

Veers grinned at him wolfishly. “We just talked, Firmus, don’t worry.”

Piett was very much worried, but at this moment the lift stopped and they stepped out to the deck their quarters were located upon.

“I’m taking your sofa,” Veers announced to him as they walked to the Captain’s quarters. “Because I am tired and we have more to tell each other.”

Piett raised an eyebrow at him, but did not protest this. 

They settled themselves in the accustomed places, Max stretching his long length on Piett’s sofa after toeing off his boots, and Piett seating himself in an armchair after pulling out the extra comforter and pillow he kept for just this purpose.

He tapped his datapad to check on the status of the repairs for Lord Vader’s quarters and to see just how far behind he was in scanning the reports his teams had sent him from the probe droid material. 

The answer was depressing. He laid the pad on his lap and looked over at Veers.

“Max. What did you say to Ozzel?”   
  


“I promised him death and dismemberment if he so much as twitches his pinkie finger at you in future.”

_ Veers had threatened the Admiral of Death Squadron on his behalf. _

“And…..he’s just  _ allowing  _ you to threaten an superior officer without consequence is he?”

“Oh I offered to go with him to Lord Vader if he so wished. Apparently he didn’t.”

Piett was giving him a very hard stare.

“Veers. You took a huge risk….”

“Of course I did,” the General said firmly, “but nothing as risky as, say, firing my blaster at my Sith commander in the hopes he wouldn’t fracture my spine into a million pieces.”

Which.

Touche’. 

“You…...heard about that then.”

Veers cocked an eyebrow at him. “Talk of the Lady, Firmus. 19 kilometers of scuttlebutt. So, friend of mine, I care about you more than anyone else on this ship, but perhaps let’s not preach at me about risk taking hmmm?”

“It’s just….” Piett began, but Veers held up a finger.

“You are going to tell me that you are the Captain of the Lady and thus, it is your job to stand between your crew and any threat from within and without, correct?”

_ Veers could be very irritating sometimes. _

His friend read his expression and smiled thinly.

“Right, so hear me out here, Firmus. You seem to have this belief that while it is your chief duty to impose yourself between threats and others, no one needs to do that for you. I am here to correct that erroneous assumption. I will always stand between  _ you  _ and a threat. Which is what I did. I didn’t even hurt him. Much.”   
  


Piett took this in, feeling warmly bolstered and slightly apprehensive at the same time.

“What do you mean ‘much’?”   
  


“I may have squeezed his face. That’s all.” Veers had a mischievous look that Piett knew well by now.

Yes, that would be terrifying coming from an angry General.

And Piett found himself inexplicably smiling.

Veers nodded in satisfaction. “Exactly. I’m in your corner, Captain. Now. I am also in desperate need of sleep and so are you. Put that damned data pad away and go to bed. I don’t suppose you still have the sweats I left here….”

Piett tossed them on his friend’s face as he rose.

The indignant sputtering was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> I liked the bit in This Time of Year where Vader exerts Force pressure on the senior officers to remind them who he holds responsible. I take that as canon and thus here it is. :)


End file.
